


Better Than Nothing

by CakeKnife



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Camping, Gen, Just a load of Freelancer trash, The AI are human
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 20:55:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6872968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CakeKnife/pseuds/CakeKnife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They should have learned by now that Florida's 'Bonding Activities' are never a good idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Than Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this post: http://imagineagentflorida.tumblr.com/post/144264776167/imagine-agent-florida-dragging-the-other
> 
> Okay so this is pretty much just some self indulgent trash because I honestly love the Freelancers okay?  
> So this is technically part of the universe for a much larger au that I'm currently working on, but for now, have some Freelancers going camping and not killing each other  
> I honestly have no idea how this ended up from York's point of view because I wanted to write it from Florida's perspective but then York happened and I just sort of rolled with it  
> Anyway, I apologize for any mistakes in characterization- this is the first time I've ever written the majority of these characters oops  
> I'll stop rambling now- I hope you enjoy reading!

“Okay, what the fuck, Wash.” York glanced over his shoulder at the sound of South’s exasperated tone of voice. “It’s literally only been five minutes.” The quick look he threw towards the object of South’s frustration confirmed his suspicions.

 

“Seriously, are you some sort of cat whisperer or something?” Somehow, within minutes of being dropped off, Washington had managed to add a small black and white cat to the bundle of things he was carrying. 

 

York wasn’t going to lie- he was a little impressed.

 

“Huh, I thought it would take at least ten minutes for him to find one.” Texas made her addition to the conversation without looking over her shoulder, possibly due to the fact that she was physically carrying too much stuff to turn around- she had insisted on carrying the majority of their food and two tents- or, equally likely, because she simply couldn’t be bothered to. Wash let out a small, indignant huff.

 

“Your faith in me is too low. You know if there’s a cat nearby, I’ll find it.” From where he was walking next to Wash, carrying so many bags that he looked almost like a human pack-horse, Maine let out a hum of agreement.

 

“Yeah, we know, Wash. Me especially.” Wash’s roommate, Epsilon, who had previously been walking in silence, pulled out one of his earphones and looked up from his attempts to find a phone signal of some sort. “I swear, I’m never going to get the cat hairs out of the cushions.”

 

York let out an amused laugh. Having been roommates with Wash for a few months prior to him moving in with Epsilon, he knew the small blonde’s habits of bringing home stray cats all too well.

 

“If Wash gets to have a cat with him, does that mean if we find a dog, I can keep it?” Theta’s voice piped up, the thirteen year-old’s sudden enthusiasm prompting North, who he had been walking next to, to grin and open his mouth to respond, however he was cut off before he had the chance to speak.

 

“Yes, Theta! If we find a dog, you can certainly keep it!” The cheery response rose up from the front of the group, coming from the very reason that they were all trekking through the woods in the first place. Florida, unlike the rest of them, was carrying very little, seeming to have unloaded his tent and bags onto Wyoming, and was left only with a guitar case slung over his shoulder as he skipped ahead of the rest of them, his long braid of dark hair swinging behind him. “Not long till we get to the campsite now, folks!”

 

“It was a wise decision to pick a campsite with relatively easy access, Florida.” Delta spoke up for the first time since the group of them had been dropped off, reaching up to adjust where his bag sat on his shoulder. “Although it does seem that O’malley is still having difficulties.” York glanced backwards, past Wash and his cat, to where a loud shout of a curse word brought his attention to the sight of O’malley swatting at an insect that flew past him, then stumbling off the path into what, by his shouts of pain, were most likely brambles. Delta tucked a piece of brown hair behind his ear, the strands having fallen free from the short ponytail he wore, and blinked, evidently trying to curb his amusement.

 

“He’ll catch up eventually.” Sigma grinned lopsidedly, and looked back towards O’malley’s struggles. “Once he’s finished fighting every insect in the forest, that is.” York shook his head slightly, turning to talk to North.

 

“$10 says that South is going to be the first to snap and set fire to everyone here.” North responded with a quiet, huffing sort of laugh.

 

“You know, I wouldn’t rule out Carolina. She almost punched Tex in the face at least  three times on the car ride here.”

 

“I hope that isn’t the case- I think we’re relying on ‘Lina to be the one to stop us from losing our heads.” Their conversation was interrupted by a shout from behind them.

 

“Wash, for the love of everything good in this world, if you try and put that damn cat anywhere near me again I swear-” Epsilon had shoved his phone into his pocket, and was glaring at the cat that lay draped lazily across Wash’s arms, his disgruntled expression a source of amusement for York.

 

“Actually, I changed my mind. I think Epsilon’s going to be the first to snap.”

 

“I don’t think Wash would let that happen.” North shrugged.

 

“You missed my point- I’m pretty sure Wash is going to be the one to cause him to kill us all.” There was a short pause.

“True.”

 

“Alright, we’re here!” Nobody in the group attempted to hide their sighs of relief as Florida indicated the trees beginning to thin out, opening up into a clearing with a small fire-pit positioned in the middle, logs arranged in a circle around it for sitting on. York immediately let the bags he was carrying- a tent, sleeping bag, roll mat and backpack- slide off his back and land in the grass with a soft thud. 

 

There was the sound of hands clapping together, and the group’s attentions were drawn towards Florida, who had positioned himself on top of one of the logs in order to give himself a height boost. 

 

“So, I say we should set up the tents as soon as possible. I hope everyone here knows how to pitch a tent, otherwise we’re probably going to be in a bit of a pickle!” There was an awkward shifting of feet and sideways glances, and Florida’s smile faltered a little, fading back to something that looked a little more human than his usual intense grin. “ _ Does _ anyone know how to pitch a tent?”

 

“South and I used to go on camping trips a lot when we were younger, so we-” North was cut off almost immediately by an indignant snort from South.

 

“Leave me out of this one-  _ you _ used to pitch the tents. I was always too busy dabbling in pyromania.”

 

“Well, at least we have a little bit of knowledge to go on, right?” Florida was evidently trying to keep everyone cheerful, Having already heard Connie asking South to stab her with a tent peg. “Besides, it can’t be that difficult to do, right?”

 

York wasn’t sure how Florida was still maintaining his smile by the end of the trainwreck that was the group’s attempts at tent-pitching. Sure, they ended up getting all of them up and relatively stable, but the process was a tiring two hours of loud cursing, death threats and narrow escapes from impalement via tent poles.

 

North had attempted to remain in control for the entire time, his valiant attempts to get Wash to stop trying to hit Epsilon with a tent pole from where he had sat himself on Maine’s shoulders, to get Gary to stop telling knock knock jokes to Theta and actually help O’malley set up the tent they were sharing, to get Wyoming to stop searching through his backpack for his loose-leaf tea instead of assisting Florida as he should have been. York shot North a pitying look after he had managed to get the final tent into an upright state and flopped down next to him onto the ground next to the tent the two of them were sharing.

 

“I’m starting to regret letting Florida convince me to come here.” York reached around to place a hand on North’s shoulder in a sympathetic manner, hearing the weariness in his voice.

 

“I think we all do.” He glanced up at the sound of footsteps moving through the grass towards him.

 

“York, Florida has requested that you start setting up the disposable barbecue that you were instructed to bring.” Delta’s hands were folded neatly behind his back. “I’ve been asked to assist you.” York nodded.

 

“Okay, D. Give me a minute, I’ll just go and get it.” North smiled up at York as he got to his feet and went to go and search for the barbecue, quietly hoping that he’d actually remembered to bring it.

 

“Try not to set fire to everything; That’s South’s job.”

 

Just because York had been entrusted with bringing the barbecue, that did not mean he had the slightest clue of how to use it. At first glance, it had looked as simple as dropping a match into it, but when that solution provided no reaction, he was forced to reconsider. Delta’s presence, constantly standing behind him, wasn’t exactly the most helpful either, the suggestions that he made quickly dismissed by York, who was determined to get the thing working himself. A quick look to the side revealed Florida nursing the first flames of a campfire, talking to Wyoming and evidently pointing out York’s struggles to him, which did nothing but frustrate him and make him want to get the barbecue lit even faster.

 

“York, I really don’t think that kicking the barbecue will help the situation.” York was very close to hitting the limits of his patience, and Delta's unintentionally patronizing statements really weren't doing much to help.

 

"I'm going to drink the fuel for the stove." The look he received in response to his statement was one of concern.

 

"I wouldn't advise that- doing so would be incredibly damaging to your health and could potentially-" York cut him off with a loud groan, dropping the box of matches he had already wasted half of onto the ground beside him.

 

"Having trouble?" The heavy English accent that sounded behind him did nothing but confirm York's reasoning that drinking gasoline would be the best way to go.

 

"Fuck off, Wyoming. I don't have time for your knock knock jokes." York didn't need to look around to tell that Wyoming would be smirking at him with that stupid mustache of his. 

 

"Knock Knock." indeed, the smirk was apparent in the tone of his voice.

 

"Are you deaf? I said I don't-"

 

"Knock Knock." Screw the barbecue; York was going to use the remaining matches to set fire to Wyoming's mustache.

 

"Who's there." The response was hissed begrudgingly through gritted teeth.

 

"You're."

 

"You're who?"

 

"You're terrible at this." Okay, that one was poor, even for Wyoming. York could see Delta tense up beside him, ready to intervene in case a fight broke out between the two of them. York struck another match, planning to have one more attempt at getting the barbecue to light before giving up and throwing the barbecue at Wyoming's face. Through some miracle, however, the match actually did something, and a flame kindled into being in the tray of the barbecue. York let out a triumphant shout as the fire spread, jumping to his feet in front of Wyoming.

 

"Ha! Suck it, Wyoming!" The statement was met with raised eyebrows.

 

"Funny: I thought that was North's job." York let out a choking sort of cough, the comment unexpected, blinked rapidly, then shook his head in a way that he hoped looked disapproving.

 

"Asshole."

 

The sun was already beginning to sink below the horizon by the time the food was ready. 

 

Once York had managed to get the barbecue working, he had headed back to his tent to set up his sleeping bag and roll mat, but was interrupted as he came across Carolina, standing over Tex's tent, a pocket knife held in one of her hands, looking almost comically suspicious. York coughed to announce his presence, and she spun around, eyes wide like those of a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

 

"Don't mention this to anyone." Her voice was hushed, as if she was in the mindset of someone completing some sort of secretive mission. York raised an eyebrow questioningly.

 

"You're cutting the ropes on her tent, aren't you." The redhead blinked down at the knife in her hand, and shoved it decisively into her pocket as if it would prove her innocence, the two already cut strings still proving her guilty. "Isn't that a bit childish, 'Lina?"

 

"Like you're one to speak," Carolina scoffed in response. "You're the person who spent an entire week following Wyoming around with a pair of scissors in the hopes that you'd catch him unaware and manage to cut off his mustache." She pulled the knife out of her pocket again, beginning to hack at the rope, watching it snap with a look of satisfaction.

 

"She's going to punch you." York glanced over to where Tex was preoccupied with collecting water from the rusty tap stationed at one end of the campsite.  Carolina shrugged without looking up.

 

"I think I can handle it." He took that as his signal to leave her to it, and made his way over to his own tent, setting up his sleeping arrangements as he had intended to before his encounter with Carolina, skirting around North's neatly arranged sleeping bag, then making his way back over to the campfire, where Delta was busy sitting over the barbecue, closely monitoring the burgers that cooked upon it with an almost surgical precision. Sigma was standing over him, talking animatedly, despite the fact that Delta didn't seem to be responding to anything he was saying. Looking off to the side, he caught sight of Wash, kneeling at the entrance to his tent, a look of frustration upon his face, having evidently been landed with the task of prompting his roommate out into the open: on account of the fact that he was pretty much the only person that Epsilon would pay attention to. His focus was brought back to the campfire as Sigma sat down heavily beside him, a frustrated look upon his face.

 

"I don't see how it's not working," He sighed loudly, pulling a small sketchpad out of his pocket and removing a pencil from where it was balanced behind his ear. He started furiously sketching something.. "He's the only person it doesn't work on. I can't even get him to respond to me." By the tone to his voice, York could tell he was more talking to himself than to anyone else, and resolved to leave him alone. 

 

"Okay everyone, food is ready!" Florida's shout from where he had once again positioned him upon one of the logs was enough to prompt the members of the group who were in their tents back into the open. Epsilon finally allowed himself to be tempted by the offer of food, sitting down heavily next to Wash, his hood pulled up and covering his hair and part of his face.

 

"I hate all of you for making me come here." He addressed the group, just to further clarify how little he wanted to be there, then collected a hot dog from where Wyoming was handing them out. Resolving that getting some food before it went cold was worth dealing with Wyoming, York stood up, walking over while dismissing the urge to punch the English motherfucker in the nose. He still hadn't quite gotten over the fact that Wyoming was ninety percent responsible for the motorcycle accident that had resulted in York's half-blindness. That, and he was generally a prick.

 

"Burger." York wasn't willing to engage in pleasantries. Wyoming grinned.

 

"Get one for yourself." Of course, the moment York moved to pick a burger off the plate, Wyoming stepped to the side and blocked him, moving again to block his other arm too. "Having trouble there-"

 

"Reggie, stop antagonizing York and get over here and help me with this!" The two of them looked over to Florida, who was sitting on the other side of the campfire, his famed 'disappointed dad' look present upon his face. A pile of flowers that he had collected were piled next to him on the log, and he seemed to be part way through the process of braiding them into his hair. Wyoming immediately stepped down.

 

"Alright, dear." He moved to join Florida as requested, and quietly began threading flowers into the smaller man’s braid. York looked away before he had to witness any more interactions between the two of them. Picking up a burger and some bread to eat it in, he walked back towards the logs and flopped down next to North and Theta. The teenager was sitting cross-legged upon the log, a DS console held in his hand,in the middle of explaining whatever was on the screen to North, who was taking in the information with a fond look upon his face. 

 

“Do you play Pokemon, York?” Theta greeted him as he sat down, gesturing down at his DS, which was emitting a quiet, chipper sort of 8-bit tune. He shook his head.

 

“No, but Wash does.” He looked back over to where Wash was feeding pieces of his burger to the cat he had found. “You should ask him about it when he’s not preoccupied.” Theta nodded wordlessly, then went back to whatever was happening on the screen, his tongue poking out from between his teeth in concentration. 

 

North and York ate mainly in silence, watching as the sun sunk fully below the horizon, the sky fading from warm colours, to dusky greys, to deep shades of blue and black, littered by clouds and stars. The light dimmed gradually, until the only source of it was the watery silver of the moon and the dancing orange tones of the campfire, spitting ash and embers into the sky every time someone moved up to throw another log onto it. 

 

At some point, Florida had gone back to his tent and emerged with his guitar, and had positioned himself close to the flames, playing out a tune which he accompanied with cheery vocals, tapping his foot against the ground as he played. Recognising the majority of the melodies, York had to force back the urge to sing along, however as soon as CT’s quiet singing voice rose up from where she had been sitting next to South, he threw any apprehensions he had to the side, and also joined in, Florida’s smile widening as, one by one, they all joined in with the songs, some of them putting in more effort than others, but contributing nonetheless. 

 

The night faded on, a blur of singing and stories and muffled laughter and the warmth of the campfire and the flicker of the stars in the sky. York figured that he must have fallen asleep at some point, because when he refocused his vision, the campfire had burned down into a soft glow of embers, the singing having faded out into nothing but the sound of Florida picking out quiet, mellow notes on the guitar, his gaze settled warmly on Wyoming, whose head was nestled against his shoulder, eyes closed. 

 

York swept his gaze across the circle of logs around the campfire, taking in the sight of everyone there. Epsilon was slumped up against Wash’s side, the two of them sitting on the ground, snoring gently with the cat nestled between them, Maine sat above them on the log, looking down at them protectively. He caught sight of Sigma, Gary, Delta and O’malley, Sigma sketching something in his notebook, Gary and Delta talking quietly, and O’malley with his eyes closed, either asleep or ignoring everyone. Tex and Carolina were sitting close to one another, but weren’t arguing, as Carolina had her eyes closed, sleeping, and Tex simply sat in solemn silence, her head tilted up towards the stars; York found himself wondering if getting a photo for future blackmail would ruin the mood. South and CT were settled together, having inched closer and closer until they were leaning up against one another, staring into the campfire flames. 

 

A quiet huffing noise brought York’s attention to the fact that North’s head was rested up against his own arm, Theta also asleep beside him, the contact a foreign sort of thing, but not one he wanted to flinch away from. Instead, he shifted slightly to prop his legs up on top of the log, tilting his head to look up at the stars. He could hear nothing but the sound of his own breathing and the gently crackling of the fire and the quiet noises from the guitar and he felt more peaceful than he ever had before. 

 

He would even go so far as to admit that this one of Florida’s ‘bonding activities’ wasn’t completely terrible.

 

“Knock Knock.” Gary’s monotone voice splintered the silence, and a loud series of groans and complaints broke out. O’malley fell off the log he was sleeping on and started cursing up a storm, Carolina woke up and immediately jumped away from Tex, and Epsilon blinked wearily, letting out a loud series of complaints to Wash as he caught sight of the cat that had had been lying next to his leg. North removed his head from it’s position against York’s shoulder as the noise jolted him awake.

 

So it definitely wasn’t perfect. But it was  _ Okay _ .

 

And ‘Okay’ _ ,  _ York figured, was better than Nothing.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The ending was a little cheesy but I hope you enjoyed reading!


End file.
